Need You Now
by TheWrightOne
Summary: What happens when the final war is over and Harry no longer wants to hunt down evil wizards? What happens when the man who was supposed to die for the greater good doesn't? Unlikely friendships form. HP/SS with a side of RW/HG and DM/GW.
1. Prologue

A/N: This story was originally posted under the name ecorbitt21. I have matured, both as a writer and as a person, and completely forgot about that account. So, I am reposting the story under my new account. Same story, just updated and combined and with an actual ending in mind.

Disclaimer: This goes without saying, but I am not Rowling. I own nothing. I simply like manipulating the characters for my own amusement.

* * *

Severus Snape was alive. At least, he hoped he was alive otherwise this would surely be Hell. He was in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts, tucked in the back corner, watching the constant movement from the healers and their helpers. He recognized several of the students constantly in motion, caring for the small needs.

"Good," the familiar voice of Poppy came, "you are awake. It was a bit touch and go for a minute there with how much blood you lost."

"It's a good thing I keep your cupboards stocked then." His voice was unfamiliar to him, much raspier than before.

"I expect you to remain in the bed for a few days. Those bite marks are going to take some time to heal." She turned to move onto the next patient before turning back to his bed. "Severus, I am glad you survived."

He had made it. Against all odds he survived the war. He had spent months working on an anti-venom to Nagini. It had been the only death scenario he could potentially prevent and

it had worked. He was almost giddy. Almost. The Dark Lord had used the snake, his precious pet, to finish him off. The double agent had survived, though the sounds coming from the Great Hall led the Potion's Master to believe the war wasn't over yet. Had Potter done his part? Looking around he noticed everyone was busy as newly wounded parties began to enter. Quietly he rose from the bed and made his way out of the hospital, intent on killing his former master himself.

* * *

The final battle was raging all around him. Everything felt as if it were in slow motion as he watched Voldemort cry out in rage sending the three fighting him flying backwards. "PROTEGO!" he screamed and a powerful shield charm filled the hall. He removed the Invisibility Cloak as Voldemort frantically searched for the caster.

The yell of shock, the cheers, the screams on every side of "Harry!" "HE'S ALIVE!" were stifled at once. The crowd was afraid, and silence fell abruptly and completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort hissed.

"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…"

"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his whole body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbeldore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry. They were still moving sideways, both of them, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face existed but Voldemort's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

"ACCIDENTS!" screamed Voldemort, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if Petrified, and of the hundreds in the Hall, nobody seemed to breathe but they two. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other's eyes, green into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people –"

"But you did not!"

"- I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"YOU DARE –"

"Yes, I dare," said Harry. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Voldemort did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and Harry knew that he kept him temporarily mesmerized and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that Harry might indeed know a final secret…

"Is it love again?" said Voldemort, his snake's face jeering. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, love, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him from falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? Love, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter – and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," said Harry, and still they circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," said Voldemort, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," said Harry, and he saw shock flit across the snakelike face, though it was instantly dispelled; Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

"You think you know more magic than I do?" he said. "Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who had performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it," said Harry, "but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" screamed Voldemort. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you," said Harry, "a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did, but you were wrong. Yes, Dumbledore's dead," said Harry calmly, "but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

* * *

Severus was standing at the entrance of the Great Hall, the commotion too great to miss. Voldemort was screaming, it echoed off the walls and through the cold hallways of the castle. Severus was in pain, there was no denying that, but he was also in shock. Harry Potter was alive and dueling his former master. Well, currently they were talking but it wouldn't be much longer before words were turned to spells. He watched the pair circle, watched the confused expression briefly cross the Dark Lord's face at hearing Dumbledore chose his death.

"What childish dream is this?" said Voldemort, but still he did not strike, his red eyes did not leave the boy's.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Potter, causing Severus to cringe. He knew this was going to lead down a path he didn't want the entire hall and eventually the world to know. He was a private man and his mistakes were about to be broadcast to the public. "Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer and Snape knew it was because he hadn't. He had been extremely careful to not cast one around him for fear of being killed. They continued to circle and Severus could not avert his eyes. Any minute the snake of a man would strike; he hoped that Potter would be as prepared as Dumbledore had trained him to be.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe," said Potter, "the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized," he said as he saw Voldemort, "he asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all," sneered Voldemort, "but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him –"

"Of course he told you that," said Potter, a bit too carelessly for Severus' liking, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"It matters not!" shrieked Voldemort and Snape couldn't disagree more. As much as he hated his private life being broadcast, this would go a long way in clearing his name should the boy win.

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy – I reached the wand before you could get your little hands on it. I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, it did," said Potter. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done… Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"

Severus watched from the shadow as Voldemort grew angrier and angrier. "What is this?" the snake questioned.

"It's your one last chance," said Potter, "it's all you've got left… I've seen what you'll be otherwise… Be a man… try… Try for some remorse…"

"You dare -?" said Voldemort again. Severus could see a glint in Harry's eyes. He had something up his sleeve and everyone in the Hall knew it except for Voldemort. Severus had seen the same glint in Dumbledore's eyes time and time again.

"Yes, I dare," said Potter, "because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle!"

Voldemort's hand was trembling on the Elder Wand, and Harry gripped Draco's very tightly. The moment when all would be decided was drawing close. Severus readied his own wand, intent on striking if Potter failed.

"The wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed –"

"Aren't you listening? Snape never beat Dumbledore! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand!" Voldemort's voice shook with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? The wand chooses the wizard… The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand has given him its allegiance…"

Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and it seemed the Great Hall knew what was coming, though Severus was lost.

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Blank shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment, but then was gone. Severus had his wand aimed at the target. It was coming to a head. His chance to finally be a free man was so close he would not miss his chance.

"But what does it matter?" he said softly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone… and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"

"You're too late," said Potter. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Potter twitched the hawthorn wand, and every eye fell upon him, including the onyx eyes of the man in the shadows. He recognized the wand in seconds. He had been with Draco when they bought that wand.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Potter and Severus had to strain to hear him. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does… I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. If Severus did not move soon he would be discovered. The high pitched voice shriek as the boy too yelled his best hope to the heavens, pointing Draco's wand:

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"EXPELLIARMUS!"

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between them, at the dead center of the circle they had been treading, marked the point where the spells collided.

* * *

Harry saw Voldemort's green jet meet his own spell, saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning through the air toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And Harry, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in his free hand as Voldemort fell backward, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upward. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the white hands empty, the snakelike face vacant and unknowing. Voldemort was dead, killed by his own rebounding curse, and Harry stood with two wands in his hand, staring down at his enemy's shell.

He had done it. He had won. Cheers erupted throughout the hall, though he barely heard them. Exhaustion was beginning to envelope him. It was over and the only thought that crossed his mind was getting out of the hall. Glancing over to his two best friends he nodded, an unspoken agreement to escape the beginning celebration. Meeting at the entrance they quietly snuck out, leaving the roars behind to seek solace in the quiet of the Headmaster's office. Harry was exhausted, the weight of the world seemingly still settled on his shoulders.

"Your scars gone," Hermione stated as he felt two fingers running over the spot in his forehead, unaware he had even been doing so. It was gone. The mark that had stuck with him forever was gone. All he could do was nod before sitting on the floor. The office was different and yet exactly the same as the year before when he had spent so much time researching with Dumbledore.

He barely heard the words come from Ron, but registered them enough to know he had commented on the prospect of being an auror. "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime," he said idly. It was the truth. There was nothing in him that wanted to continue to hunt down evil people. In truth, he had no idea what he wanted to do going forward.

Hermione's words forced him to focus more on the conversation, the questions that were sure to come after the defeat of Voldemort. "What are you going to do with the wand?" There was no question which wand she meant. Pulling the fragments of his own broken wand from his pocket where he had been carrying it ever since the accident, he muttered the spell and watch as the pieces fit themselves back together. Testing the wand he smiled.

"I have no desire to wield that wand, but I don't think it can be destroyed like other wands. We should talk to Kingsley, but I want a little longer to just sit." They had won. For the first time Harry could truly remember the future looked bright.


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter. This story is from my own imagination and I am merely using the characters as play things, no different than the barbie dolls I had as a child...

* * *

Harry Potter was exhausted. He supposed it was due to being awake for the past 30 some hours and moving nonstop, ending it all with the greatest battle he had ever faced. People were hovering over him, asking things of him that he either didn't want to or couldn't talk about for he only understood the basics of what happened. In the course of one day he had discovered more about what the true meaning of love was and, as a result, there was only one person he wanted to talk to. Unfortunately, he was currently unconscious.

'At least he's alive,' thought the boy, looking out over the destroyed Hogwarts grounds from where he was perched in the Astronomy Tower having been run out of the Headmaster's Office. The last time he had been up here the great Albus Dumbledore had been 'murdered' by Professor Snape. Now that he fully understood what had happened, he realized that at that moment, Dumbledore was not pleading for life, but pleading for the man he had asked so much of already to finish him.

The war had cost each of them. Harry had seen the death of his parent's best mates – the Marauders were reunited at last. His godson was without parents. Dumbledore and Fred had both been murdered; there were definite costs from the war. Professor Snape had been forced to live a double life, never allowed to let anyone get close to him for fear of revealing too much, or fear of opening himself to a weakness. 'The only good thing to come of this war is my knowledge of love. Without it, none of this would have been possible. It's interesting how this one battle revolved so much about having an understanding of what magical properties love has.'

The door creaked open, revealing an exhausted looking Ron and Hermione. He smiled wearily at his two best friends, the two people that had been with him since he was eleven years old. They were his first real friends and his first real family. And the weirdest thing was they had stuck by him through it all. Here they were once more, still standing behind him, supporting him through another one of his triumphs, bruised and bloody though they were.

"Hey," Ron said. He looked extremely happy even through the obvious tiredness. Hermione was slightly behind him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hey," he responded. They had managed to celebrate briefly together immediately after the battle in the Headmaster's Office before they were run out. Ron and Hermione had gone to be with the rest of the Weasleys. Reporters had arrived on scene and Harry had instead been forced to give two interviews before he had managed to escape up here.

Hermione and Ron walked and sat down beside him, one on each side. Hermione wrapped her arms around him, trying to comfort him. He was grateful for their presence. The exhaustion was evident, though he doubted they had come to find him to tell him to go to bed.

"Mate, I know you don't really want to face this right now, but Kingsley is asking for you. He wants your help in deciding what to do to restore order in the Ministry. Everyone wants your opinion on something now," Ron stated, looking out over the grounds.

Harry nodded. "We've been through so much. It feels weird to just be sitting here, just the three of us. No one's threatening us, no one's taking house points, we're not in a near death situation – there's just peace and love."

Hermione rubbed his back. "It feels good, doesn't it? Knowing the war has finally been won!"

Harry nodded, taking a few more minutes to himself. "I suppose that the quiet of up here can't last. Should we go face the real world?" he grinned at his two best friends. They both nodded. The trio stood and headed toward the Great Hall, knowing that the peace they all felt now was too good to last.

* * *

Severus heard noises, voices quietly talking around him. He was tired, extremely tired, and he hurt. He tried to move, tried to sit up, but an immense pain shot through him. He groaned, his eyes fluttering open to bright lights that hurt his eyes. He hadn't hurt this badly earlier. He again tried to sit up only to feel something warm drip down his neck.

"You're awake, I see, and have reopened your wound. You're going to have to be more careful," the voice of Poppy chided, and the trickle stopped. He was confused. He didn't remember how he had come to be in the hospital wing. The last thing he did remember was the Dark Lord preparing to attack…

The memories came flooding, overwhelming his senses. The Dark Lord was gone for good and he was free. What now? He knew his attitude wouldn't change. He had spent too many years as a spy to let his guard down now. He would still be the same bitter old man as before. Would the public expect different? Did he want to be different?

"You need bed rest. Miss Granger and Miss Weasley will also be taking care of you. Both have offered to stay and help me with the number of people that we have here," Poppy said, helping him into a sitting position. He knew he was foggy from the multiple potions she must be feeding him, brewed by him. "You have someone who wants to see you, if you are up for it. You can say no."

Severus was curious. It wasn't often that someone wanted to speak with him, with the exception of Minerva and Albus. "Who?" was all he could manage without getting some water.

"Mr. Potter," Poppy said waiting expectantly for an answer.

"Why?" he rasped.

The Mediwitch handed him a glass of water. He sipped, smart enough to not make himself sick by chugging. "I have no idea. You will have to talk to him to find out."

"Send him in then."

He watched as a timid Harry Potter came in, nothing like the man that had just dueled the Dark Lord a few hours prior. He looked weak and tired, as if he had not slept in several months. Blood caked his arms and his hands, but the scar was no longer visible on his bloodstained face. The innocence of this young man had been stripped of him; he was much more in sync with the ways of the world.

"I wanted to thank you," the man began, his voice quiet against the bustling Hospital Wing as he took a seat in the chair beside his bed. "You sacrificed everything for me. You paved the way for us to succeed. You were the only thing that made sure we won in the end. Thank you." Severus nodded, unsure of what exactly he was seeking.

"I also want to apologize for leaving you to die. I was so preoccupied with hunting down Voldemort," Severus cringed involuntarily at the name, "that I just sorta ran off. After everything you've done for me, I shouldn't have run. I should have stayed and got you help."

"You had a mission to do. I was fully prepared to die there," Severus offered, unsure of why he was telling Harry bloody Potter this. He supposed it was the look that Potter was giving him, something that looked like true remorse in those green eyes.

"How are you feeling? And how did you survive?" Harry asked looking genuinely interested. Severus suppressed a chuckle.

"I'm tired, I ache all over and I can't move quickly for fear of reopening the wound. I worked for months to create anti-venom to Nagini's bite, and managed to successfully prepare it last month. I was prepared for when the Dark Lord decided that I was no longer valuable and hoped that he would kill me with the beast. What I wasn't prepared for was how quickly I lost blood. Granger came back with help and I wound up here."

"So you didn't get to see the end to the man that you called master?" Harry questioned.

Severus sighed. "I was there. I snuck out of this blasted bed in just enough time to hear you profess all of my secrets to everyone who was in the Great Hall. I watched you defeat him with Expelliarmus. You are lucky that worked." He was becoming grumpy again, though he could no longer deny that his feelings for the man had changed. He no longer felt the hatred that had consumed him for the past seventeen years, realizing that the man standing in front of him was not his father, no matter how much he looked like him. That was the amazing thing; this creature that looked so much like his childhood enemy had his mother's soul inside.

"Oh," said Potter. "I'm sorry for that. I just figured he needed to know why he lost. I needed the Hall to know the importance of love, how powerful it really is."

Severus nodded. He had understood. It was needed to help everyone in the room understand what exactly was missing to make the Dark Lord so weak; to make them understand how a young man could kill one of the most powerful wizards of the time period. On top of that, the young man's testimony would go miles in keeping him from ending up in Azkaban.

"I have a question for you now, Mr. Potter."

"Okay…?" Severus could read the concern Potter had, hoping it would be something he could answer.

"How did you survive? I know the memories I gave you. I know you were to go to your death."

Potter smiled briefly. "I did go. I met him in the forest I'm assuming about the same time Hermione went back for you. I let him kill me but he ended up destroying the horcrux in me instead. Narcissa lied to him when I told her Draco was still alive and told him I was dead. The rest of it you pretty much saw."

Severus nodded. Several moments of silence passed between the two of them, both trying to process the events of the past day.

"So," Potter said.

"Mr. Potter, you always were gifted with words," Severus said, sarcasm dripping off of every word. Potter blushed intensely and stared down at the floor.

He looked up. "Kingsley is Minister of Magic now. He's got a lot of work to do. The Aurors are already out attempting to round up the Death Eaters who ran. He asked if I would join them…"

"Let me guess, you complied and are leaving to go hunt the rest of the Death Eaters."

"No!" Harry nearly shouted before again blushing. He softened his voice before Poppy came to kick him out. "I turned them down. I have no desire to become an Auror. I thought I did, but I really don't. After fighting a Dark wizard for my entire life, I am done. I just want to begin to have a normal life," said Potter, shocking Severus.

"I see," he looked over to the three medi-witches, wondering what would become of the destroyed Hogwarts.

"They're going to use the summer to repair the damages. Professor McGonagall was appointed Headmistress and you are Deputy Headmaster, if you agree to the position. With your trial pending, Kingsley thought it would be best to keep you out of the spotlight. I was offered an apprenticeship here to become the Defense teacher," Potter said as if reading the older man's thoughts.

Severus grumbled. He had nowhere else to really go, though teaching was not what he wanted. "I suppose I don't have any other choice. There are not many choices for former Death Eaters."

"You could always open your own apothecary. Make potions for other people. Go into business for yourself if you hate teaching so much. I owe you and have enough funds if you need help getting started," Potter said, smirking.

"Who are you apprenticing under?"

"You if you accept the position and agree to having me alongside you. Slughorn has already agreed to stay on for another year while I get trained."

Severus sighed. He knew he would be needed, but this truly was the last thing he wanted.

They both saw the youngest Weasley coming toward them. "I guess that's the sign that I need to leave you to rest. Just think about the offer. Thank you again, sir, for saving me time after time."

The young man stood and left and within a matter of moments, Severus was unconscious.

* * *

Harry couldn't help but to feel relieved as he left the hospital wing. The man that had risked everything to make sure that he succeeded had managed to make it through the final battle. The thing he didn't understand is how they just managed to have a civil conversation. True, he had just defeated Voldemort and true, the man was injured, but Harry had never thought that they would ever be able to see eye to eye on anything.

"Harry!" Ginny called, running toward him. He turned and smiled as the redhead leapt into his arms. "You did it, Harry!" she said as he held her.

He did it. The words were foreign, yet familiar. He smiled, letting go of the girl he thought he had loved and yet now, he simply looked at her like a sister.

"We can be together! It's all over!" he heard the words escape her mouth and he cringed.

"Gin, we need to talk," he said quietly. She froze, her hazel eyes glaring at him, never breaking contact with his emerald ones. She looked like she was about to hex him with the worst curse she could think of. "Ginny, this isn't about you. It's about me. I just don't have feelings for you like you want. You are like family to me; like my little sister. I'm best friends with your older brother. I'm sorry, Gin, but I'm not interested in dating anyone right now, least of all you." He stared at his feet, the guilt rising in his chest. Before he could even react she had slapped him across the cheek as hard as she possibly could and somewhere deep down he knew he probably deserved it.

"You are a bastard, Harry Potter! You lead me on for years only to leave me right after the final battle! Now that you finally have time to date, you won't! We were supposed to be together Harry James Potter! Now look at what is happening! You are pathetic!" she screamed at him continually hitting his arm, the tears beginning to pool in her eyes. Harry's guilt began to increase as she screamed at him.

Harry stood there, unable to move. He didn't think he had led her on; they had dated and he ended it. He went running through the woods in order to kill Voldemort, purposely leaving her out of it. Now, when she was within reach he didn't want her. Not only did he not want her, he doubted that he ever really had wanted her. During his life, he had always been expected to date the perfect girl, fall deeply in love, get married, and have a family of his own; a large family. Now that he had time to truly think about he wanted, he found that he wanted none of that. He wanted familiarity while still being secluded from the world that had sacrificed him to be slaughtered for the 'greater good'.

"Ginny, I never meant to hurt you. I've spent my entire life sacrificing myself for what the world wanted me to be. I understand that I was the chosen one, but now I just want to live normally while still secluded from the rest of the world," he said softly.

Ginny glared, obviously not done. "So I would be a sacrifice for you! You bastard!" And again she slapped him.

"There you are, mate!" Ron called, giving Harry an escape from the enraged, grief stricken redhead who had turned to retreat back to the hospital wing.

"Yeah."

"Mum told me to invite you to come to the Burrow for the next couple of days!" Ron stated, a huge grin plastered to his face. "She figured we all could use a bit of a rest and good food."

"Sure thing, Ron. That sounds wonderful! We all could use a rest," Harry said, staring at the now retreating form of Ginny. He supposed he probably shouldn't go to her family home after that.

Ron cleared his throat. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can always come to either Hermione or me. Speaking of Hermione, how would feel about she and I dating? We value you as a friend more, so if you think that it's gonna interfere with the friendship, we won't date…"

"It's fine, Ron. I figured that this would happen. You two are meant to be together," Harry said, keeping his eyes focused on his best mate.

"Thank you so much, Harry! I mean, I think I love her so I'm excited to give this a try!" Ron sputtered, putting one arm around his tired friend. "Let's go home!"

The next several days flew by for Harry. Molly Weasley had fussed over him from the moment that he set foot in the Burrow, though he had spent most of his time sleeping. He had been given a week before the staff were expected to come back and help rebuild Hogwarts. Ron was leaving to join the Aurors; his training began the week after. Hermione had gotten her dream job of working with the Ministry and was aiding Kingsley in researching several new laws. This was it for the trio; there last week of truly being together.

"Harry?" a timid Hermione called, startling the man.

"What's up, Hermione?" he asked.

"You still look awful. Have you been getting any sleep?"

Harry smiled. "About as much as I normally get. I still have to sleep with silencing charms. You can never sleep properly when your magic is being used throughout the night or when you have nightmares about all of the people that have died for you."

"Have you thought about brewing yourself Dreamless Sleep Potions? Then you wouldn't have these dreams," Hermione offered, sitting on the bed next to her friend.

"It takes time and that's one thing that I haven't really had. You also know that Potions are not easy for me and I would be too afraid of poisoning myself. I guess I could buy it, but I wouldn't even know where to begin to look for that. There are no good apothecaries that I trust around here," he said matter-of-factly. In truth, there were only two people he trusted when it came to Potions, Hermione and Professor Snape.

Hermione nodded. "I came up for Mrs. Weasley. Lunch is on the table and she wants to make sure that you eating. We all are worried about you. You aren't acting like yourself."

"I guess I'm still tired. I'm not used to having nothing to do and I'm worried about the future. I'll be at Hogwarts while you and Ron will both be working at the Ministry. I'm scared that I'm going to lose you both and that we won't be able to spend time together. You two have been with me through everything. I'm scared to go off on my own."

"You will be fine, Harry. We are all entering unfamiliar territory, but we are all strong people and will be fine. You know more about Defense than anyone else I know. You taught all of us in your fifth year. You already know how to teach. Now you just have to tailor those lessons into plans that are age appropriate. And you aren't going to be on your own at first. The hardest thing you will have to do is grade papers in a timely manner," Hermione laughed. "Now let's go get some food."

* * *

Severus was finally allowed to leave the Hospital Wing. After sleeping for the better part of four days, his wound had healed enough to not open with every quick move he made and he was strong enough to look after himself. Many of the people who had been brought to the Hospital Wing had already been released. Miss Granger had gone with the boys to the Burrow, needing rest from her year traveling. Miss Weasley had stayed behind to help with those who were in no shape of being moved, Severus included, though he was suspicious of such things.

"Looks like you will be leaving us here in the Hospital Wing," the redhead said. Severus grimaced.

"It would appear to be that way."

She frowned, causing Severus' suspicions to be confirmed. People were expecting his attitude to change; though having to live his life as guarded as he had, change was not easy. In fact, even before he became a spy he had always been sarcastic and private.

"The Headmistress would like a word. She asked if I would send you there," Miss Weasley said and he nodded. Turning on his heel he headed for the office that had been his own for the past year, but wasn't sad to see leave his grasp.

"Come in," called the stern Scottish voice. He pushed open the door, feeling extremely tired but glad to be moving.

"You wished to see me," he drawled, his voice still raspy from his recovery.

"I was wondering if you had given any thought to my offer. If you so choose, you are more than welcome to stay on here as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Horace is willing to stay on for another year, though trying to fill the DADA position is proving to be more difficult. However, I will not force you to stay on. If you have other plans, feel free to explore those," Minerva said. She had aged immensely under the pressures of the job. The school was still being rebuilt by volunteer efforts; wards were being put back up. Could he deal with being in the place that had caused him so much pain?

Severus sat quietly, deep in his thoughts. He was being offered a substantial position, a position that would not disappear. It was a chance for him to continue to be around a subject which he knew and he could pass on his expertise. After all, he had managed to survive when many other people hadn't. It also meant being around students, the insufferable imbeciles who constantly refused to listen or put any effort outside of the classroom. Not to mention that Potter had given him another option. He would still have to be around the public, but he could work for himself.

"Severus, if you decided to go into business for yourself, it will not be easy. You still have to clear your name and make people trust you. While you have Potter's support and trust, the rest of the Wizarding World is still weary. With my offer, people won't have a choice," she said as though reading his mind.

He glared. "You did not just suggest that I could not gain the trust of the general public? Did you miss the precious Potter's declaration? I'm sure the fucking press didn't! I doubt that I will even be tried for my part, even though I am the sole responsible for the death of the saint Albus Dumbledore!" he spat, turning toward the door. "I accept your offer. Let it be clear that I did not do it because I did not think that I could make it on my own. I accept because Potter needs someone to help mentor him. He has already spoken to me about the apprenticeship.

"However, I will not be staying on to help rebuild this school. I have no desire to try and continue to heal while dealing with the volunteers and staff. I need a break and as such I will be at Spinner's End for the summer. I will return the week before school starts, per usual."

Severus swung open the door and headed for his rooms to pack and flee to Spinner's End for the remainder of his summer.

* * *

It was Harry's final day at the Burrow and stood looking at his two best friends, his packed trunk positioned by the fireplace. They were facing their last breakfast together, possibly ever, as they were all three heading for separate careers. Taking his usual seat beside Ron he could already feel the tears beginning to well in his eyes. At least that was until an unfamiliar bird gracefully landed on the window sill, pecking for entry. Mr. Weasley was the first to react, though they were all shocked when the bird flew in and went straight for Harry.

Immediately wands were drawn, pointed at the small envelope in the creature's beak. The familiar script caught his eye immediately, causing the young man to freeze. What the hell did Malfoy want? Years of being in the same classes had familiarized the writing. That was all. Lowering his own he took the envelope, gingerly opening it as to not tear the note inside.

_Harry,_

_I know we haven't always gotten on, but I have been informed I will be standing trial for my actions. While I don't have a date, I was hoping to ask for… well, I'm not really sure what. I know that we haven't been anything close to friends, but I never actively attempted to kill you. I suppose I am asking for you to state that on record, but I can understand if you refuse. Our pasts, the rivalry between us, bred bad blood, but I'm not the person I was forced to be._

_-Draco_

Dumbfounded, Harry passed the letter to Ron and Hermione. Nodding they excused themselves from the table, promising to return shortly at Mrs. Weasleys voiced complaints. Once safely in Ron's bedroom, the redhead was the first to speak. "I can't believe the ferret wants your help. It's not like he wasn't involved. He tried to kill us multiple times."

"Actually, he didn't," Hermione corrected, gently taking his hand. "He was noncommittal when we were brought to the Manor and he tried to get Bellatrix to stop torturing me. He helped us get away. In the Room of Hidden Things he even tried to stop Crabbe and Goyle." Ron scowled, unsatisfied.

Harry, however, nodded in agreement. "His mother saved me," he said quietly, looking down at his dirty shoes. It wasn't information he had shared with anyone. It had felt private, a moment in the worst of times shared between two scared people. "After Voldemort 'killed' me in the forest, he sent Narcissa over to see if I was really gone. She asked me if Draco was still alive and then told Voldemort I was dead. I wouldn't have survived if it weren't for her."

"Does that mean you are testifying?" Ron asked, glancing from Harry to Hermione and back.

"I think it does."

The rest of breakfast was an uneventful event. Harry overate, as always, and was near bursting when he finally stood too leave. As he moved toward the fireplace, his two best friends hot on heels, a thick silence filled the house. Turning he noticed the tears silently trickling down Hermione's face. "Well, I guess this is it," Harry said, unsure of what to do. Hermione ran to him and grasped him in a hug.

"Mione, it's not the last time we're gonna see him. He's not going across continents. We can Floo him anytime we want and he us. You and I are living here for a while. He knows where we are!" Ron said, putting his arm around his girlfriend. Harry couldn't help but smile. They did make the perfect couple.

"Ron's right, Mione. It will be weird not having you there to do the paper part of my stuff, but I can always come and see you when I need a good lecture in organization or the support of my friends," Harry laughed.

Hermione was still crying as she said, "What if we establish Friday dinners? Just for the first year. We could each choose a week to pick a place in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley and just go."

"That sounds like a good plan to me," Harry said, grinning from ear to ear. "However, now I must go! I'm about to be late for my first day. Professor McGonagall wants me to spend today growing accustomed to my rooms. After that I start rebuilding."

"After the battle, that place was in ruins. You have a lot of work ahead of you," Ron said with a chuckle. Harry nodded matching the laugh. Hermione began to cry harder.

"I will see you guys on Friday then. Just owl me with where you want to go. Hermione, as it was your idea, I think you should pick first," Harry said, taking a handful of Floo powder in one hand and his trunk in the other. "Hogwart's School, Headmaster's Office," he said loudly and vanished in the green smoke.


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: So sorry this update came later than the others. I was away this past weekend at a wedding and so I missed my usual posting date due to lack of internet.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literally. I prefer to just manipulate the characters for my amusement.

* * *

Harry was smiling as he stepped out of the Floo and into the office of the expecting Headmistress. Few things had changed since his departure, but the desk was more organized than he had ever seen it. Behind it sat a tired looking woman in hunter green robes, her hair pulled into her traditional tight bun. She was looking down at a paper on her desk; quill in hand, intensely working on whatever it was in front her, so much so that she had not even moved since his arrival.

"Mr. Potter," her voice startled the man, her thick Scottish accent a familiar sound. "Please take a seat. I will be with you in a moment."

He moved forward, taking a seat at the desk across from her as ordered as if on autopilot. He sat patiently, remembering the many hours he had spent in this office going over memories to try and gain some perspective on Lord Voldemort. The horcruxes had been revealed in this room. He had learned the final secret here, leading him to head into the Forest as a sheep for the slaughter. The same gadgets that had always been here were still around, whizzing and fizzing and clanging in the background. Fawke's old perch was also still there though nothing inhabited it these days.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter," McGonagall stated, smiling as she finally looked up from the paper. "How has life been treating you over the past few weeks?"

"Quite well, Professor. The Burrow proved a nice get away and a much needed break. How is the rebuilding coming?"

"Please, call me Minerva. I am no longer your Professor and am now your colleague," she stated, turning to look out the small window in the back of the office. "There is still much to be done, though I am glad to say that a good start has been made. We have a lot of volunteers outside of the staff, meaning the castle should be completed by the start of term." She turned her attention back to him, "I want to thank you for your willingness to come back and work. No one is forcing you to be here. If you need more time, I completely understand," she paused, giving the young man time to respond.

"Honestly, Pr - Minerva," the name felt awkward as Harry said it, "I would like to just get settled in and then begin to work. The Burrow is a great place to get away for a bit, but I am still trying to process everything right now and I could do with some solid work to take my mind off of it."

McGonagall nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I must impress upon you this is not a normal thing, Potter. You have not yet taken your NEWTs and are the first apprenticeship we have offered in many years. I am sorry, but I cannot allow to you to apprentice before passing your NEWTs. Therefore, I will be scheduling them for this summer. In the upcoming weeks I will be passing out the class schedules. Attached to yours it will have the date you are to sit your NEWTs. I would recommend that you use all of your down time to study, though I am sure that you will be just fine in your core subjects. I am also quite certain that if you were to ask the Professors here for their help you would be granted access to it.

"Severus will be your main point of contact during the school year and it is up to him when you will take on certain responsibilities involved in teaching. While I have the upmost confidence in Severus, should you have any questions during the year, my door is always open. Remember, as an apprentice it may be a while before you actually get to teach a classroom. Do not become discouraged.

"Unless you have any questions, I will show you to your room. Unfortunately the Defense Wing took a lot of damage during the war and the only rooms we have available are in the dungeons," she said standing and stretching, her robes sweeping down to the floor in an elegant manner. Harry shook his head. He figured he would need to sit his NEWTs and was appreciative she had offered the apprenticeship. His only fear was Snape, but he was hoping now that the war was over they could build a friendship or, at the very least, trust.

She led him to the familiar dungeons, past the rooms he had once used for his Potions classes, past the Slytherin common room that he had snuck into under the effects of the Polyjuice Potion in his second year, to a deserted looking hallway that held two portraits in it; one of Salazar Slytherin and the other of Merlin. The Headmistress came to a halt in front of Merlin and offered him a slight smile.

"Good evening, Headmistress," the elder wizard stated elegantly, the words rolling out of his mouth as if they were butter.

"Good evening, Merlin. This is young Mr. Potter. He is to be the resident to the suite behind these walls. Potter, the current password is 'victory' but you can change it once inside to whatever you wish. You may also change the room around to suit your style. Should you find you need anything, my door is always open."

"Thank you, P-Minerva, for everything," Harry said lamely before turning to Merlin. "Victory." The portrait swung open and he disappeared inside, leaving the retreating form of McGonagall.

Striding into his room Harry was greeted with a large open room. Off to left was a small kitchen area placed his eagle-feather quill and ink wells in both black and red. A small kitchen area was attached, adorned with a small oak table and two chairs. This had made Harry rather happy as it meant that he could always whip himself up a snack or a meal without having to bother the house elves. In front of him was the sitting area, a large cream colored couch and arm chair were centered around the fireplace. In truth it was probably more seating than the man would ever need. Toward the other side of the room sat two bookshelves with a desk in between them, all made of the same oak as the table. It was comfortable, but bland. Waving his wand he watched the colors change, maroons and golds filling the room. The couch was now a light gold, the chair maroon. A fire had sprang to life in the place. Passing through the door next to one of the bookshelves Harry felt his breath hitch.

The bedroom was furnished with a large queen bed with black silk sheets and a white comforter. It was much more formal than Harry was used to and as such made him feel that much older. The eight pillows on the bed were blacks, whites and greys, each complimenting each other and the bedding. The bedside table held a small clock and was made out of stained ebony that accented the color scheme of the room. On the opposite wall of the room was a dresser that matched the bedside table and in the corner sat a solid white arm chair next to a window that looked out into the lake, causing an eerie light to dance across the room. Behind it was a black floor lamp with two lights coming out from it, one looking down at the chair and the other pointed out upon the rest of the room. The room had a white carpet with grey and black lines swirling around on it. Harry found the entire furnishings to his liking and had gingerly placed his few possessions on top of the furniture in here.

The bathroom, however, was completely different from the rest of the suite. Decorated in sea foam green with brown and black accent tiles, the room was bright and yet not overbearing. The tub was on the far wall, a crisp white, which was easily as expansive as the tub in the Prefects bathroom. Next to the tub was a stand-alone shower, in the same tile as the rest of the room with a white floor. Both the shower and the tub had silver faucets and accessories. The toilet was next to the shower, again in the white with silver fixtures. A wall of tile separated the toilet from the double vanity, which was a tan brown marble counter-top with two sinks built in. The bath towels were a matching brown, bringing the accent of the tile out. The hand towels were the same white of the tub, completing the entire look. Another window was placed over the bath, letting in the same light from the water of the lake and Harry could not help but smile in approval, knowing these two rooms were perfect as is.

* * *

Severus Snape was sitting by the fire when an annoying pecking noise interrupted his afternoon reading. Standing slowly he moved toward the window, opening it with a huff, and let the Great Grey owl into his home. "What do you want?" he grunted at the owl. In response the bird took flight over to the arm of his chair, landing elegantly, a letter clearly visible in its beak.

'Who is writing to me?' he thought bitterly as he snatched the letter. Still the bird sat.

_Professor Snape,_

_I honestly am not sure why I find myself writing this, but I have had my first meeting with McGonagall and several things were brought to my attention that I am unaware of how to proceed with. I know I am the last person you probably want to hear from and as such I am sorry for bothering you. I know that while I was at school I never truly treated you well, and again, I apologize. I have no idea if you will even read this before chucking it into the fire, but I want you to know that I am sorry for everything. I know that hearing this from me isn't going to make a difference, but my mother treated you poorly and obviously didn't value you as a friend would have. If she had she would have accepted your apology. I would have forgiven you._

_I suppose that I should get on with the reasons I am truly writing. I have to take my NEWTs before the summer is out and I would like to ask for your assistance. I know that I was never very good at the 'art' of potion making, but I feel that without some help I will have a hopeless attempt at whatever potion I will be expected to brew. I know Slughorn is here, but I never seem to get his teaching style and the man annoys me more than I am fearful of you. I understand if you don't want to. Hermione should be able to show me as well, but I wanted to ask you first, simply because it would give us a chance to get to know one another as we will be working together this school year._

_I want to thank you, as well. You have risked so much for me and I never would have been able to bring down Voldemort without you. You were there, leading me every step of the way without me knowing it until the end. You played your part well and I hope that you find the peace and happiness you deserve. Kingsley informed me two days ago that you would not be going to trial – that my testimony in the final battle was more than enough to clear your name. Thank you._

_I hope that you are recovering well. Phillia (I figured it might be time for a new owl) has been instructed to wait for a yes or no about the tutoring. Like I said, I completely understand if you have no desire to deal with me before school starts._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

Severus stared at the letter in shock. Not only had the young man apologized for his behavior and his mother's, he had gone on to thank him. 'So, you finally have grown up, Potter,' he thought, setting the letter down on the small coffee table. He was torn. Potter had come to him for help in a professional way indicating that he was no longer the fool of a boy that had made his life a living hell. On the other hand, Severus wanted nothing more than to stay in his home and read and brew to his heart's content. It was no secret that Miss Granger could easily prepare him for his NEWTs, having already sat hers a week prior. She had of course received top marks and had her face once again plastered in the Daily Prophet for it. Potter wasn't wrong about Slughorn, though, and it would give Severus one more chance to prove he was the better Master.

Grabbing a piece of parchment, the Potions Master turned DADA teacher scribbled out the response: _Yes._

"Here," he said to Phillia, gently holding the bit of parchment out for her to take. She seemed pleased enough because as soon as it was in her grasp she took off out the still open window, heading back to the castle. Once the giant grey bird was out of sight, he sighed. Of course Potter knew that there wasn't a trial. He had been informed three days ago of the fact. It wasn't a shock though. In the final battle the brat had done his fair share of talking, explaining to the entire hall his past; his memories. The long haired man had truly expected to die during the battle and now he wasn't sure if surviving really was a great thing.

Freedom. He finally had freedom and for the first time in his life Severus was unsure of what to do. No longer was he trying to serve two masters, carefully walking the tight rope that was the difference between life and death. He was free, or at least as free as he would ever be. After years of being a double agent he would still be the same bitter, guarded man that he had always been, especially in the classroom. He had proven that fear worked far better in preventing accidents than being overly lenient and friendly with his pupils. Slughorn had also helped prove this when he took over two years prior, giving Severus the opportunity to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts and then when he was assigned Headmaster and trying to protect the students without giving his position up.

Slumping into the oversized chair he let a ragged sigh escape him, his thoughts drifting back to Potter. The boy had grown into a spitting image of his father and the man's arch rival from his schooling days, but there were distinct differences. He had his mother's vibrant green eyes and her kindness toward her friends, but the young man went even beyond that. He had an extreme softness about him, something that prevented him from being mean to even the most disgusting of people. Even in the final battle between the evilest wizard in modern day history, he tried to get Voldemort to see reason and try for remorse. Whatever inherent goodness Potter held, Severus could not help but be in awe and yet baffled by it.

Picking up the book he had so clumsily abandoned, a Muggle novel entitled The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, he settled himself down and began to read again. He had made it another chapter in when the tap came again. Another sigh of annoyance and the same bird was located back in his living room. What could Potter want now?

_Sir,_

_Thank you in advance for your help. Having spent the past year living out of a tent, I am sure I would fail miserably without it. I was wondering when you wanted to meet and where? If a set schedule outside of the castle would be better for you I will arrange myself accordingly with Minerva._

_Thank you again,_

_Harry_

Grabbing quill and ink he scrawled out his response in his tiny handwriting back.

_I will come to Hogwarts every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 2 pm sharp. We will meet in Potions Lab 1. Do not be late or I will not return._

_S. S._

Giving the letter back to the bird he sent her on her way, closed the window and decided to return to his book and drink from the comfort of his bed, praying that tomorrow would be a less interrupted day.

* * *

Harry awoke late on Wednesday, realizing that he had just enough to grab a shower before he was supposed to be in the potions lab for his first lesson. He had no idea what to expect and attempted to clear his mind from the anxiety he was beginning to feel. Teaching wasn't the part that worried him, knowing he had already proven himself capable when he taught Dumbledore's Army. They had all become more proficient at defensive spells, but potions had always been a weakness of his. He needed to do well enough to pass his exams and Snape wasn't the easiest of teachers.

Stepping out of the warm water feeling worse than when he started, he quickly dressed himself in a pair of dark wash jeans and a white button up shirt, doubting he would need robes for today. He still needed to go to Hogsmeade soon to buy more than the one set of robes he had now. 'I suppose I can do that tomorrow,' he thought as he gave himself one last look over before exiting his rooms, only to run into the likes of Severus Snape.

"Professor," he acknowledged pleasantly, attempting to make himself sound a bit more confident than he felt.

"Potter," the man said smoothly back. Harry couldn't help but smile. Even though the war was over, the man had not lost his personality, which was to be expected. After years of having to guard himself from letting anything slip, it was no wonder that the man was still as unsocial as ever.

"Sir, I was hoping we could talk today," the raven haired young man began, faltering slightly under his phrase of choice. Of course they would have to talk; they were scheduled to go over Potions right after the staff meeting.

Snape scowled. "Of course we will talk, Potter," he bit out, turning on his heel to head back up the staircase in the direction of the staff room. "I doubt that you would be able to manage a potion without instruction." And then, Harry saw something that he had never expected; Severus Snape let a sly smile slip. As soon as Harry caught a glimpse of it the older wizard recovered and it was replaced with his usual scowl.

Harry blushed before speaking again. "I know that, sir, but I was meaning about other things. I feel that we both have been holding onto grudges that we would be better off just dropping. I know that you are coming back to teach this year," Harry said boldly, meeting the man's eyes, "and as I will be working under you it may be best to be civil toward each other," he finished lamely. He didn't move, waiting on held breath for the man's response.

"Potter," Snape began, his voice softer than Harry had ever heard it.

"Harry," he said firmly, mustering every amount of courage the Gryffindor had. "Please, call me Harry. I am not my father."

Snape stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the younger man. He nodded, still scowling at the boy. "Harry," he amended. "I actually agree with you. Civility would be best given our current situation. Perhaps we can talk before I assign you a potion to brew."

Harry nodded and took off walking again, ending up at the lab a couple steps ahead of the older professor. He opened the door just in time to watch the older man glide through and make his way toward the front of the room and through a separate door at the other end.

* * *

This smaller lab, tucked behind the teaching one, was where Severus did his personal brewing. It was in this very lab that he had created the anti-venom that saved his life. This was the only lab that was kept stocked during the summer months and he only used it to restock the Hospital Wing as Slughorn refused to work any extra. There were two tables in the room, each parallel to the other, and Harry chose the table closest to the door, which was not a surprise to the older man. He could feel the nervousness pouring off the boy as he moved past him. "Before we begin, perhaps we should clear the air. I know that you have viewed my memories. The fact that you spewed to them for everyone to hear as you battled Voldemort ensured that. Therefore, you already know why I worked so hard to keep you safe. What else could possibly want to know?" he asked, watching the boy's face blanch. It was something they were going to have to try and work through if they were going to manage to work together.

"Sir, I want to know why you hate me," he paused, looking as though he was going to flee any second. "You have seen more of my background than most due to the Occlumency lessons. You know that I am not my parents so why do you still hate me?"

Severus was taken aback. As many dealings as he had had with the young man, this was not the question he was expecting. He stared at the Boy-Who-Lived and scowled, though it lacked its usual menace. "Potter, Harry, I don't hate you," he finally spoke, though his voice was barely above a whisper. The young man froze in shock.

"You don't?" he asked, looking more confused than any potions lesson had ever made him.

"No. I don't. I haven't hated you since your sixth year when I realized that you were nothing like your father. It is true that I am still not a fan of the memories I have of the Marauders, but most of them had the chance to grow up and while I wouldn't say that I was friendly to any of them in their later years, I had become civil, at least with Remus. I am not sure I would ever have become civil with Black. You have your mother's inherit goodness and yet, you are beyond even what she was. You are better than she was, than she could be. We were all young and each one of us made mistakes. Most of mine I wish I could take back, but life does not work that way.

"I called your mother something awful, and for that I apologized repeatedly. If she had been as good of a friend as I thought she was she would have forgiven me and moved past it. Unfortunately, she let the pressures of her housemates get to her and saw my moment of weakness the perfect excuse to cut me off. You know this story already. Maybe if things had been different, if the timing was different, we would have remained friends, but we would never have worked together and I realized that around the time I was twenty. I still loved her, and a large part of me always will," he stated, watching the young man nod.

"I spent most of my adult life serving two different masters. Don't be fooled, Albus was just as manipulative as the Dark Lord. He was willing to sacrifice any one that wasn't valuable. Hell, he was even willing to sacrifice you in the end. You don't know how pissed I was about that. I figured that my life was forfeit when I became a spy. Eventually I would slip up and the Dark Lord would discover my true allegiance; I would be killed after being tortured for any information. Most of the time I was overlooked unless I had information deemed important. I had to bargain in order to gain anything from that man, and as such, I became used as a pawn and guardian of you. I hated every minute of it up until the start of your sixth year. I had to pretend to still hate you after that. It would not have done well for me if Draco reported to his father that I was treating you or your two friends any differently. After all of that, I was forced to provide you with the knowledge that you were to offer yourself up to die willingly. Everything I had done to attempt to save you throughout the years was to all be destroyed at the right moment."

Potter smiled. "Sir, I understand most things, but I still have two questions – how did you know it wouldn't work with my mother and why didn't you try and repair things after you graduated?"

* * *

Harry froze as the obsidian eyes of his former professor glared daggers into him. The questions were ones that had been on his mind since he saw the memories and had just come out. Snape looked as though he was about to yell at him to get out and never return, and they had been making real progress. Finally, Snape spoke, his voice dangerously low and Harry could tell that he was making a real effort to control his temper.

"Those are personal questions, Potter, and I am not going to answer either" he snarled, his eyes never leaving Harry's emerald green ones. "I trust that you know by now that I was and still am responsible for brewing all of the potions used in the Hospital Wing. Today I will test just how much you remember by having you brew the Pepper-Up Potion. You will find the instructions in the book next to you and all of the ingredients in the cabinets in the back of the room. Start now and do not speak unless spoken to."

Harry worked in silence, chopping and stirring, crushing and measuring. Sweat was rolling down his face by the time he was supposed to leave the potion to simmer. Looking up he noticed that Snape was busy hovering over a cauldron, gently separating Knotgrass and adding it slowly to the bubbling mixture. He was so busy Harry decided it would be best to just let him work. Pulling out a slip of parchment, he scribbled a note stating that he appreciated his time and that he would see him again Friday at two before slipping out to help rebuild the castle.

And so the week continued, a blur of building. Harry was looking forward to the next lesson, which turned out to be much shorter as it was simply the final stages in the brewing process. His potion had been passable, though it wasn't to the level Snape could manage. Harry was proud of his work as he showered, readying himself for an evening out with friends. He had heard from Hermione and Ron and they had all agreed that for the first dinner out they would go to the Hog's Head. Aberforth had become friendlier with the trio after the final battle, though he was still an odd man who preferred spending his time with animals than people. Harry decided that he would try out several of his new outfits, pulling on a pair of darkwash jeans and a red dress shirt with a black t-shirt on underneath. His hair he magically dried and brushed the knots out of, but he let it go its own way, as he always did. He finished the look with a sports coat unbuttoned and his black dress shoes that he had bought to go under his teaching robes that he still needed to get. Looking in the mirror before grabbing his wand and tucking it into the holster on his right arm, he smiled. The scar was gone and he looked more grown up than ever before.

Grabbing his travelling cloak he exited his rooms and made his way toward the entrance hall. The halls were deserted, leaving him time to think. He was so enwrapped within his own thoughts that he barely noticed that he had made it to the Hog's Head fifteen minutes early. He stepped inside, taking a seat at one of the tables toward the back of the room, awaiting the arrival of his friends. The bar room had maybe twenty people tops in it, though most were talking animatedly with one another so the noise level was high. Harry smiled as Aberforth came trudging over to him.

"Potter," he acknowledged, tilting his head slightly. "I 'spect your two cohorts will be 'ere soon." Harry smiled and nodded. "What can I get ya?"

"I will have a Butterbeer while I wait then we will discuss food," the young man said with a smile. If it hadn't been for Aberforth Dumbledore he would have been killed on several different occasions throughout the war. Hermione and Ron both walked in at that moment, holding hands. They had always been dealing with sexual tension and feuds started over the different people the other one was seeing and in Harry's opinion it was about time that the two got together.

"Harry," Ron said, pulling out the chair for Hermione, causing a blush to creep on her face. Ron had changed since he had returned to the tent; had grown up from his childish ways. He had been a vital part of the final battle, thinking enough to go back down into the Chamber and retrieve the Basilisk fangs.

"How are you? How are the repairs going? Have you taken your N.E.W.T.s yet? Oh, it's good to see you! I've missed you!" Hermione began, her normal questioning tactics working in overdrive to make up for the week they had spent apart. And it was fitting. After spending every day of the last year together, this was the longest they had been separated.

Ron sighed. "Slow down, 'Mione. Give the man a chance to breathe."

Harry laughed. "Things are going well. I am really enjoying myself at Hogwarts and the repairs are coming along nicely. The Entrance Hall is finished and the Great Hall will be done in the coming week. We need to still finish the towers, but everything will be done in time for the term to start. I take my N.E.W.T.s sometime before the start of the school year. I have been getting extra help from the Professors in preparation, including Professor Snape."

"Snape?" Ron asked in disbelief. "I figured he would want nothing to do with any of us."

"Yes, Snape. We have even become civil. I mean, he's still as prickly as ever and we still get on each other's nerves, but his insults aren't as harsh and we can sit in the same room without having to hate each other. It's been interesting. He mainly just has me brew and then leave. It's probably a good thing as we will have to work together in the fall."

They continued to make small talk, filling each other in on the happenings of each other's lives. Molly had taken Fred's death hard and was rearranging the entire house, fixing up and repairing the place. She was even adding some more rooms to accommodate guests, should Harry ever want to move back in. George was still manning the shop, though he seemed to be just going through the motions. Harry made a note to go and speak with his other friend.

The subject changed to Hermione and Ron. Hermione had talked Kingsley into letting her mail in her work so she could attend University to study wizarding law. Kinglsey immediately had agreed, liking the idea that she would have additional training on the subject. Ron had finished the training to become an Auror, but ultimately turned it down, choosing instead to start work at the Joke Shop. His older brother was excited to have him join the business. They both were still living at the Burrow, though they were looking at getting their own place soon. Hermione was also researching how to reverse the Obliviate she had used on her parents so she could go to Australia and restore their memories.

Harry wished her luck and told them about his talks with McGonagall and that once every month they would have to do dinner at the castle. Ron was all for this. It was no secret that he loved the food there. Hermione understood, though she didn't seem as excited to return to the school. In truth, he couldn't blame her. They had been through so much there that sometimes it was hard to deal with all the memories.

The dinner ended as easily as it had begun, the late hour combining with their yawns drew the night to a close. They all wished each other well and as Harry made his way back to the castle he couldn't help but look forward to next Friday.


End file.
